"I'm stuck." Mike said with a voice that was stronger than he felt. "I can't go up or down from here." He sunk his head down into his hands, bent forward off of the couch.
Harvey watched him with sad eyes, wishing there was something he could do to take the younger man's pain away. It wasn't the first time they'd sat down and had a real talk, in the few years they'd been working together. It wasn't a common occurrence though, and it was at times like these that Harvey felt closest to Mike. The times where Mike would let himself be vulnerable, when they weren't trying to impress each other. Harvey felt his heart give a squeeze when Mike stood up and walked to the window, staring out at the great big world he was almost a part of – always at the edge but never quite there.
"I don't know what to do." He whispered, loud enough for his mentor to hear, but neither really knew to whom he was speaking.
"There is something you can do," Harvey said, sure of himself as he stepped up next to Mike, staring out at the same horizon his associate was seeing. "You can go to a small place. Iowa. You can go to a low end law school, and go legit. But you couldn't come back. Someone would know someone. Then it'd all be for nothing anyways."
The following silence was comfortable, yet troubled, as the two men watched the sun disappearing. "I know." Mike stated, calmly, morose.
Sighing, Harvey lifted his hand and clapped it down on his friend's shoulder; not knowing what else there was that he could do.
SUITS
"You're in the minor leagues," the man told him, business front gone. "I'm bringing you into the big leagues." With that, he turned on his heel and left, leaving Mike alone with his disquieting thoughts.
He stood there by the door, feeling lost in space, time not existing. Seconds, minutes passed, the arms on the clock ticked by and still, Mike stood, eyes transfixed on a tiny scratch in the glass conference room door. He wanted it. It was right there. Right in front of him. Close enough to reach out and grab.
And there it went, slipping into the fiery inferno of things Mike Ross can never have. And there Mike went, right along with it.
SUITS
Harvey sat in his office, leaning back in his chair, his pen pressed to the crease in his chin as he pondered over the conversation he and Mike had had. It must have been brutal, living life like that. Wanting so much but being allowed so little – all with the threat of a lifetime in prison hanging over his head. It must have been brutal – hell he knew it was brutal. If it stressed Harvey out this much, he couldn't even imagine what it was doing to Mike. He just wished he could protect him from it; all the pain and suffering and whatnot. He'd had a rough life, and somehow Harvey regretted how he'd made it worse. If he had just let Mike walk back out after that "interview"...
But he knew that wasn't an option to think about. After all they'd been through, Harvey Specter; emotionless asshole, closer extraordinaire, did not want to think about what life would be like without his Mike. His... what?
Quickly pulling himself from that thought – a thought that was wildly inappropriate and sounded a little sadistic to him – he checked the time. Mike was supposed to have files on his desk quite some time ago... Given the circumstances, Harvey was going to play nice and let it slide; maybe even take some of the files off his hands.
Decision made, he made his way over to where Pearson Specter kept its hoard of associates, and headed for Mike's desk – only to stop short. Where was Mike? Probably in the washroom, he decided, the man really did have the bladder of a mouse. Taking confidently lazy steps back to his office, he stopped by Donna's desk for a little chat. Time passed quickly, after some good old banter with his favorite friend, some harmless flirting, and a minor kick to his impenetrable ego. A few seconds walk and he was back in the bullpen. Still, Mike was not there... though his bags were.
One place he could be.
Cold water stung his eyes; it got in his nose and in his mouth, tasting bitter and salty as it mixed with his sweat. He breathed out hard, trying to take deep breathes, needing to calm down. He stared himself in the mirror, willing the panic to subside, and gradually it did. If he wasn't careful, he'd be the next office heart attack.
"What are you doing?" A voice asked from behind him.
Turning around, Mike saw his boss, looking at him like he'd lost his mind. Or was that... concern? No, it couldn't be. Harvey must have thought that Mike had lost his mind. Again.
"Harvey, I-" He stopped short, completely aware of how ridiculous his voice had come out. Gaspy and high.
"What's wrong?" The man asked, folding his arms at the wrists.
"He offered me a job." He tried again, somewhat more successful in sounding like a grown man – rather than a little girl – this time. When Harvey only watched him, he continued. "In the big leagues. He said I was in the little leagues, and he was going to take me to the big leagues."
Mike grabbed the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white as he rocked slightly forward, over the sink, staring down at the dripping faucet.
Understanding crushed down onto Harvey; that same empathy washing over him again as he felt his heart give another squeeze. "And?"
"And?" Mike sounded almost hysterical as he looked up at Harvey, eyes wide with frustration. "And I can't, Harvey! I can't do that and I never will and I'm just stuck here!" He threw his arms up, exasperated, agitated, on the verge of a complete meltdown. "I'm stuck." He told his mentor, again. And it had never made him feel more lost.
"Mike..." Harvey said quietly, barely loud enough to hear. Mike heard him though. And he shook his head; quickly back in forth, in response.
"I can't." The words were simple. Nothing else needed to be said. Just... I can't.
"Mike," Harvey said again, closing the distance without even realizing it. It took him three steps to be standing face to face with Mike, inches away from him. The silent conversation that passed them was nothing more than a plea for help – from both of them – and again without realizing what he was doing, Harvey grabbed Mike, taking his face in his hands.
"Harvey," Mike pouted, squeezing his eyes shut.
Their lips met. The kiss was deep and intense, as if they were trying to steal away each other's pain. Their heads swam, bodies reacting faster than their minds could process. Mike was backed up against the sink, and Harvey's hands had travelled down to pull his waist. Mike's arms were wrapped around Harvey's neck, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled him closer towards him.
"Harvey," he said again, whispered into his mouth breathlessly, and the moment was gone. They both suddenly came back to reality.
Stepping back, Harvey looked at the younger man, face paled and pupils dilated. What had he just done?